


Heart of the Lion

by ShadowSHearth



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Fluff and Smut, Interspecies Romance, Meant To Be, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3567260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowSHearth/pseuds/ShadowSHearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Lavellan has become known as The Herald of Andraste and the leader of the Inquisition. Not only is she a Dalish Elf, but she is also a mage. So, why is it that she is so accepting of the role that is suddenly thrust upon her? Fate may have something to do with it. It may also be the way a particular former Knight-Commander smiles at her. </p><p>Former Knight-Commander Cullen seems to have a fetish for the forbidden. It's bad enough that he had feelings for the elven mage back in the Ferelden Circle Tower, now Warden Commander. Now he's set eyes on another that utterly takes his breath away. Why does he torture himself so much? Ah, right, fetish for beautiful women and mages...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Touched by Fate

**Author's Note:**

> All respected characters belong to Bioware. Thanks to them for making all of the characters that we know and love today. Alasi'lath is sort of my creation, as my Inquisitor.
> 
> This story came to mind after the conversation of "So, how long have you wanted to kiss me?" and Cullen responding "Far longer than I'd like to admit." It sort of follows cannon, but deviates into the reasons my character, as a Dalish elf would stay as well as the reasons why Cullen would feel so protective of her after the events at Haven. There relationship seemed to have no real growth between then and there and it's left solely up to the imagination of the player. This is my imagination and I will take a few liberties with the story just to develop them further in the future.
> 
> This story will be a slow buildup of the romance and jump back and forth between both characters perspectives. Rated Mature, as it will eventually contain violence and adult situations. Previous history of former Dragon Age games will be included for more depth and insight into the world I've developed. Expect a few cameo's and bits of those things being mentioned now and then.

_“Alasi'lath, garas. I have a story to tell you and you should listen,” her mother called, sitting cross legged in the grass and holding her hands out welcoming. The small elven girl turned from where she was playing and ran towards her, jumping and tumbling into the open arms of her mother with her own small arms wrapping around her mothers shoulders as she tucked her face into her neck._

_“Tell me, Mamae!” she said happily, her body slowly slipping down until she was curled up in a small ball in her mothers lap._

_“Atisha, da'len, listen closely...” her mother wrapped gentle arms around the girl, cradling her as she spoke. “You are special, touched by the Fade itself to call it's will to your hands.” Her mother lifted her hands and played with her fingers, wiggling them playfully to make the girl laugh. “One day, far, far into the future... you are going to do great things. Greater than any of us can ever imagine.”_

_“What kind of things?” the girl looked up, eyes wide and watery as she waited. Her mother smiled and touched her nose then, pressing it lightly before leaning to kiss it. “The Fade will be open to you, dear lathellan... People will look to you for guidance and it will shape the whole world. Perhaps you will even find someone special... special for you to love.”_

_The young girl scrunched her nose up at that, rolling her tongue out of her mouth with a loud, “Yuck!” Her mother laughed heartily and hugged her tight to her chest. “When you are much older, you will feel differently about such things.”_

_“Just remember this moment, lathellan, for it will be important to you some day... It will mean something. And know that I love you,” her mother's voice held something sad that the little girl simply didn't understand or comprehend. Her arms hugged her mother tightly, instinctually, before leaning up to kiss her on the cheek. “I love you with all of my heart and soul. Now then... I want you to remember the most important part.”_

_“What's that mamae?”_

_“When the time comes... remember: Find the lion.”_

_The little girls eyebrows scrunched together and looked up to her mother curiously, “Lion?”_

_Her mother smiled brightly down at her, caressing her cheek and nodding her head. “Yes, that is the most important part for you to remember, dearest one. You will not see it at first, but when you do, you will understand.”_

_“Just find the lion. His courage will make you strong.”_

 

Alasi'lath opened her eyes with a gasp, her eyebrows pulled together tightly at the dream that haunted her. That had been the last day she'd ever seen her mother... so why did it haunt her now? She didn't understand, when had she even fallen asleep? She was supposed to be listening to something, sent on a long journey by the Keeper who was training her to be the next. She had said it was important, there future may depend upon it. So she had gone, looking forward to experiencing what it was like to be alone, far from her clansmen.

She looked around now, eyes falling across the grey stone with glowing green etching across its cracks as she pushed herself slowly to her feet. Squinting, she glanced around... this wasn't where she was meant to be. It tingled to her senses, whispering sweet temptations of power. Like dreaming in the fade but without the thin veil between her that she'd grown to know. She took her first stumbling steps, wanting to get out... willing herself to wake up.

That was when she heard a sound, hissing and skittering across the stone. She turned and almost fell over her own feet as she backed away. Demons... little ugly beasts with too many eyes like a spider, only bigger. She turned then, catching herself as she did fall this time and scrambled to her feet, taking off at a sprint and up a jagged cliff of rocks to get away. The creatures followed behind her with ease, swarming like ants on their prey.

She looked back up to see the image of a woman, reaching for her, calling out to help her. She pushed herself harder, legs screaming and lungs burning. She reached out for the hand that was offered, missing the first time and trying again... just their fingertips touched... and the world went black with a nagging whisper in her ear from a time long passed:

_“Find the lion.”_

When she finally awoke... she found herself in almost complete darkness, her wrists heavy and cold. She looked down to see why and found them bound in her lap. Her fists balled and she pulled, testing them for weakness and found none. The small action caused a sharp pain in her arm and before she realized what was happening, her hand was alight with a strange green power that made her almost double over and pass out.

What was this thing? It felt... raw and powerful. Not like the storms she could conjure at her fingertips, striking enemies with lightning and cold as she touched the gentle barrier between this world and the Fade to draw in her power; muted, like looking through with a sheer cloth or swimming through water. This felt like the barrier had ripped and everything she could feel just on the other side, restrained and easy to control, had slammed straight into her veins and tried to escape through the conduit that was her body. There was no control in whatever this was... it was like an untamed beast ravaging the wilds.

She barely had time to think when the door opened, bathing her in blinding light that made her squint painfully away from the assault on her eyesight. A figure slowly pressed forward, followed by another as two women entered the room. That was when she caught sight of the guards that she hadn't even realized were there, pointing swords dangerously at her. What had happened to put her in this position?

A strong looking woman with dark hair stepped forward, her chin lifted defiantly with a stern glower etched into the lines of her face. Alasi'lath felt like this woman would strike her down at any moment, chained or not. “Tell me why we shouldn't kill you know. The Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead... Except for _you_ ,” the woman paced back and forth and pointed a finger accusingly in her direction before coming to a halt next to the other woman, shrouded in the shadows of her hood.

Her brows pulled together tightly, shocked and confused. That's right, the Conclave, she'd been sent to witness the meeting that the Divine had called. It was going to address the war between the Templars and the Mages... decide the fate of the circles. The Keeper had sent her to know the decision, because either it was going to have mages being hunted down like the animals that most of them believed that they were, or it was going to try and bring piece between all of them. It was bad enough, having to hide from rogue Templars... but it could get much worse.

“You think that I did this...? To myself?” she asked, looking up to catch the woman's eye and gesturing with her hand to say she meant the mark that burned her like fire. Who would ever want this? And to think, the Conclave destroyed? With her inside of it? No, that was suicide and Alasi'lath had much more to live for than that. Her clan depended on her and would even more so in the future to come.

The reminder had the woman reaching for the gestured hand, pulling it up at a sharp angle as she growled, “Explain _this_.” The power lit up and crackled with the gesture, making her scream in sharp agony as her fist balled to try and contain it, “I can't!”

“What do you mean you _can't_?” her voice was sharp as she shoved the hand away in disgust.

“I don't know what that is, or how it got there!” she barked back, turning her head as the woman paced somewhere behind her. When there eyes met, something snapped, the woman's lip curled back into a snarl as she lunged, gripping the front of her shirt and the chain that ran between the soft fur cowl that hung from her shoulders to hold it in place, lifting her up onto her knee's with brute force, “You're _lying_!”

Suddenly the other, shrouded woman came forward, pressing at the woman's breastplate to force her away, and Alasi'lath fell back onto her calves, teetering backwards dangerously as she tried to catch herself without her hands. “We need her, Cassandra,” the woman, who she now knew her name fell back towards the door with her and the other woman stepped forward. As she came close, she could just make out her features. She held an almost neutral expression, but something underlying looked soft and concerned, she grasped for it, “Please, I don't understand what's happening.”

“Do you remember what happened? How this began?” she asked and she had to think about it. Arriving at the conclave and then... a dream? Perhaps, but maybe it was important to say. “The last thing I remember, I was running through cliffs of rock. It felt like a dream, but more real. Things were chasing me, and then... a woman?” The cowled woman with red hair looked at her strangely for a moment and shared a glance with Cassandra, “A woman?” 

“I'm not sure, but it looked like a woman, reaching out to take my hand, to help me get away. But then... When I touched her... I don't know. The next thing I knew, I woke up here” she gestured her hands to display the irons that bound them together and the place that she was being held prisoner and the women before her, all the same.

Cassandra sighed heavily and moved to give the other woman an order, both of them walking once more to the door not far from them, “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Leliana, that was her name, looked skeptical for a moment, passing a glance in her direction before looking firmly at Cassandra and nodding her chin, turning to leave.

Cassandra moved forward, crouching down to take the chains from her hands and fastening a rope together instead. As they sat there, silent, Alasi'lath looked over the scar on the woman's cheek as she thought, “What really did happen?” The woman sighed heavily, looking down at a blank spot on the floor before helping her up on to her feet. “It... it will be easier to show you,” she said, guiding her out through the door. 

As she stepped into the light, her eyes blinked heavily. What should have been warm light from the sky above was clouded over and sickly, a green shadow cast across the expanse like the green etched across the stones in her dream. Her eyes looked up to find it's source and her breath caught in her lungs at the spiraling storm of light in the distance. It screamed at her like the mark on her hand did... and looked eerily familiar. Then... they must be connected. That's why I'm suspect.

Cassandra explained the situation to her slowly... The Breach. A fitting name for something that looked like death from above, shooting out meteors of light and there echoing booms in the distance. It reminded her of nights that she would see stars shooting across the expanse, but far more real and closer to home. It screamed of power and magic, just like her hand, calling her to look into it's depths if only to see what was on the other side.

“An explosion... caused all of this?” she asked, finally tearing her eyes away to look at Cassandra who'd come back to her side to speak with her. “This one did. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.” At that moment, the light in the sky exploded and crackled like green lightning, tearing the sky apart like ripping apart a piece of cloth. Her hand glowed and fractured equally and she found herself on her knees before she could do anything else. She pulled her arms close and whimpered, hardly noticing Cassandra crouching to meet her.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads... and it is killing you,” she said softly, but her words were dangerous and made her head spin out of control. It was killing her? This thing on her hand, that felt like the Fade... It was going to swallow her whole, just like the sky itself threatened to swallow the world of Thedas. “It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time.”

“How... How would it stop this? You say it may be the key... but the key to doing what?”

“Closing the Breach, whether that's possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however, and yours.” The words sounded threatening, but it was honest. If this woman knew what she was talking about, then this mark would be the death of her soon. How long had she been passed out cold, with it's magic raging and swirling around her, growing and becoming more volatile? Her brows knitted together... her thoughts lingering on the dream she had had before she'd woken up in that strange place, being chased by monsters.

_“The Fade will be open to you. People will look to you for guidance and it will shape the world.”_

Had this been what her mother had meant all along? She looked at her hand carefully, a jagged scar in the palm of her hand that glowed just as green as the sky above. How could her mother have known about something like this taking place? No matter... Whatever this was, fate or chance... she was dying and the world was in danger and she had a chance. If her mothers prophetic words were right, then she would face this challenge head strong and determined like everything else she had ever done in her life. 

It was the reason why she was training to become a Keeper, a leader. Now would be a time to set a good example for the things that she could do, could have done, even if it meant never returning back to them.Her eyes came back up to meet Cassandra's, her eyes sharp and her brows pulled low. “I understand...” she whispered, though it was more about the words her mother had spoken so long ago and confused the woman before her for just a moment.

Cassandra was momentarily shocked, her eyes searching for answers that Alasi'lath didn't know that she could give, “Then...?” Alasi'lath took a deep breath and nodded her head, pulling herself to the balls of her feet as her muscles coiled to stand, Cassandra following her. “I'll do what I can. Whatever it takes,” and her eyes held onto the spot in the distance where the sky was crashing in around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alasi'lath, garas. - Alasi'lath, come.  
> Mamae! - Mother  
> Atisha, da'len. - Peace, little one.  
> Lathellan - Roughly: My blood daughter. Someone of importance.


	2. Enraptured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All respective characters belong to Bioware. Thanks goes to them for creating all of the people we know and love today. Alasi'lath is my character, sort of.

When had he started feeling attracted to her? Oh, right, it was the very moment he'd seen her, fresh from the battlefield outside of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She was gorgeous, all sharp angles in her face except for her full lips and almond shaped eyes that were the color of a forest in spring. The faded vallaslin on her face just further accentuated the contours, making her into something exotic and tempting. But besides her innate looks, it was the stern way she had told him that she would help in any way that she could despite the fact that she was being held as a prisoner to be interrogated only a few short hours ago. But he pushed it off as an infatuation, because that's all it could be and was.

Maker preserve him, he always had had a weakness for beautiful women. The fact that she was a mage was just cruel punishment for thoughts he'd harbored ten years ago in the Ferelden Circle Tower. He was starting to think he had some sort of fetish for the forbidden... add on the fact that she was a Dalish Elf and he was absolutely certain of it.

She was at the training grounds now, speaking with Cassandra. He couldn't hear the conversation over the mens training, but Cassandra had just turned back towards her and the Herald said something that made Cassandra's face twist into shock, then careful consideration before seeming relieved by whatever she had said. It seemed over the last few days that the Herald had accepted her roll and fell into it as word had slowly begun to spread and was taking her time to acclimate and get to know everyone.

Her and Cassandra fell into easier conversation after that, and Cullen was drawn back to training... barking orders occasionally and looking over notes that were brought to him. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it had been quite a good amount. Distracted enough that he didn't hear the Herald coming up behind him from between the tents.

“You there! There's a shield in your hand, block with it! If this man was your enemy, you would be dead!” He bellowed sharply, brows drawn down in frustration. “Lieutenant, don't hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one,” he said to the man who'd been assisting in the process of getting the soldiers whipped into shape.

“Commander? Do you have a moment to spare?” her high and almost teasing voice entered his ear and he turned towards it like a sirens song, but immediately turned back to look over the men with his arms crossed so that he wouldn't be caught tracing the lines of her face with his eyes. That would be bad. “Checking up on the troops?” he asked her, trying to sound stoic and not like he'd been watching her however long ago that it was.

“I'd like to hear your thoughts. I'll admit that I know little about how Commanding an army works,” she offered. “Good thing Cassandra and Leliana seem to have a good man on that front.” Cullen looked at her out of the corner of his eye and had to clear his throat. Why did her voice have to sound almost flirtatious? It seemed to be just the way she spoke, but it made his heart flutter a little faster at the thrown in compliment.

“We've received a number of recruits – locals from Haven and some Pilgrims. Though, none made quite the entrance that you did,” he glanced back over, caught her eye and then noticed the slight twitch of her lips that quickly fell back into her neutral expression. “At least I got everyone's attention,” she said confidently, like it's what she wanted all along, which if the past week was anything to go by – she didn't.

It was contagious, the corner of his lip twitching up into a grin as he felt the familiar pull of the scar on his upper lip, “That you did...” The sound of his own timbre was laced with a bit of an undertone that conveyed his own inner thoughts a little too much for his own liking. She definitely had his attention. He continued with the conversation as quickly as he could manage without stuttering over his words. Anything to keep her from, hopefully, noticing his little slip.

“I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall, I was there during the mage uprising – saw first hand the devastation it caused,” he waved his hand in offer for them to walk and talk and she moved beside him, her expression focused like she was hanging onto his every word. He had a feeling that she wouldn't forget anything he said, whatever it was. “Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause.”

A man called out and rushed to catch up, handing him a clipboard with a report that he looked over with his brows pulled low. He nodded at the messenger, handing the clipboard back with a short jerk of his chin to take it away with his answer before he focused back on the elven woman beside him, “Now it seems we face something far worse.”

They paused and he saw her lean back, her arms crossing over her chest as her hip popped to one side. It reminded him of Cassandra when she was trying to look intimidating, but hers had a different feeling behind it. Confidence, yes, but playful like her voice and considering of the situation. “The Conclave destroyed, a giant hole in the sky – can't say things are looking good.”

“Which is why we are needed,” he said firmly, waving his hand to make it a point. “The Chantry lost control of both Templars and Mages. Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition can act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be a part of that. There's so much-” he came to a stuttering stop, realizing that he'd allowed his passion for the change the Inquisition offered to get the better of him. He could talk about his belief in it and his desire for it's success for days, all because it reminded him of his own desire for change in himself. “Forgive me, I doubt you came here for a lecture,” he rubbed at a spot on his neck with one hand, abashed.

“No, but if you have one prepared, I'd love to hear it. Sounds like you are very passionate on the subject,” her lips had turned up to a barely there hint of a smile. If you weren't paying attention, you'd miss it and Cullen wouldn't have missed it because he liked the way her tattoos on her chin and cheeks moved from a smile that looked hidden and private. Like she was afraid to share it. Maybe she was... it wasn't too long ago that she was a prisoner and she likely wasn't sure what to make of her former captures turning into her ally's, as well as getting to know people who'd already developed a relationship in their planning and preparation for an Inquisition, without knowing they would have the Herald of Andraste at their side.

He chuckled softly at her comment, another compliment that swooped in unexpectedly and made his heart stuttering and thinking about stopping in his chest, “Another time, perhaps?”

That was when her hidden secret widened enough that he could see the white rows of her teeth under her stretched lips and her eyes lit up at the prospect he offered. It made his breath catch in his throat in surprise. Maker bless, she was even more gorgeous when she actually smiled and it seemed reserved for him to take in and him alone. “I – ah...” he cleared his throat nervously at his own stuttering and had to look away else he may fall into that smile. “Well, there's still a lot of work ahead...”

“Commander!” another messenger called and her face quickly fell into her typical neutral look, easily looking like she'd never even smiled in the first place. “Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines.” The man stopped, standing just a few feet away, waiting patiently so that they could go find Leliana and discuss the new information and formulate a plan. His hand went up to rest on the hilt of his sword, starting to walk forward but looking back to her with a confident smile and a thoughtful hum, “As I was saying.” He fell into conversation with the messenger in his next few steps and didn't notice that sharp green eyes were intently following his every move. And if he had, he surely would have blushed under her scrutiny.

 

The men had long since began filing away as night fell over Haven, the light from the Breach cast a sickly green across everything and mingled strangely with the white glow of a full moon. Lanterns and torches found themselves lit in darker corners of the camp and helped guide inhabitants along the dirt paths that had been established. Cullen was just about to retire to his own private quarters when he'd looked up to the side of the fort of Haven to see a familiar form climbing over the edge of the wall behind where her own little private building was.

She clung for a moment to the logs before dropping onto the boulders below in a crouch, her strange bow staff hanging from around her shoulders and the leather of her armor stretching along the lines of her toned thighs. Cullen found himself moving around the corner of the entry gate to watch her from a shadow that had been cast as she glanced around, checking to see that no one was watching her little escapade.

She crawled back into the shadows of the wall and waited, patiently, as a few more people passed her by unknowingly until the coast was clear. She stood and with a happy skip in her step, she jumped down from the boulder into the snow and took off between the tents where he usually worked to disappear out towards the frozen lake on the other side of an embankment.

Against his better judgements, he found himself waiting for people to pass as well until he would be unnoticed, following in the trail of her footprints left behind in the snow. When he found her, she was walking along the edges of the lake, bending down on one knee as she picked the leaves from an herb and stashed them into a pouch that hung from around her waist. When she stood, she glanced up towards the moon, her hand going up and grasping for it like she'd caught something precious before she laughed and danced onto the solid structure of water, letting her feet slide precariously on it's surface until she was closer to the center.

She spun, and when friction finally caught up with her, she tilted a bit before falling onto her hip unceremoniously. He almost called out to make sure she was okay from where he stood, watching her from the embankment and where it had been reinforced to make a walking path. Just as he was about to, however, he heard her melodic laughter bubbling up, her head tossed back happily before she leaned back on her hands and just stayed there, bathing in the glow of lights in the sky.

It was a beautiful sight... it made him think of people's stupid accusations that Dalish spirited people away in the night, and that, in this moment, he understood how it might have developed. She looked ethereal in the mingled exposure of white and green, calling out to him to follow her if only so he could steal another glance at her laughing like that in the future.

With his thoughts racing and his heart pounding in his ears, he walked almost automatically out towards the dock over the lake that was all but useless in the frozen winter. He stopped just on the edge of it and when his last footfall landed, the boards creaked under the weight of his body and his armor. Her eyes opened in a flash and her head turned towards the sound and when she glanced up, he found there eyes locking onto each others solidly. It was intense, to the point that he felt his face flushing and heat blooming around his neck. He reached up to tug at the edge of his breastplate, because it felt suffocating at the moment, before he stuttered, “I-ah... Hm... Sorry. I saw you... well, just wanted to make sure that everything was well.”

Her eyes were taking in his face, observing the contours of his jaw and his cheekbones, falling to his mouth as he spoke to watch his scar. Finally, a slow smile creeped over her lips, that same smile that had captured them in the camp when she thought no one was looking. Now, no one was, and it was even brighter than before. He needed to remember how to breathe. “Sorry, Commander, I didn't mean to worry you... I just... Well, I wanted to enjoy the quiet after all of the fighting we saw out in the Hinterlands. The moon is beautiful, even looking over all of this chaos.”

She had moved to get up, far more gracefully than he ever would have managed on the ice and portraying none of her slipping and sliding along it that she had when she thought no one was watching. She tiptoed across to where he stood above her, glancing up to him. “Help me up? I don't feel like walking all the way around,” she smiled, but it was like she'd been caught with her hands in a cookie jar and it made him laugh as he kneeled down and offered his hand, “Of course, Lady Herald.”

With their hands grasped firmly around each others wrists, he tugged as she grasped the edge of the dock and pulled herself over the ledge. When she finally managed to get her knee onto the dock and let his arm go, she rolled her hips until she was sitting, her legs dangling over and swaying back and forth. “Would you care to join me?” she patted the spot next to her with her ungloved hand, the hand with the mark that was supposed to save them, before pressing it flat behind her to look up at the stars.

“I believe I already have,” he said, seating himself beside her and leaning forward to rest his forearms over his thighs. She smiled at that, tilting her head and he watched the feathered earrings she wore shift from where her ears were mostly hidden by her long curling locks of auburn hair.

“So you have...” she sighed contentedly before her face fell into thought, her brows twitching for a moment before she looked at him. “Well, since we are here, I was thinking. We should get to know each other better, since we'll be working together from here on out. I didn't really get the opportunity the other day.”

It surprised him, but she was honest and blunt in whatever curiosity she had. He thought about it for a moment before he nodded his head, “What would you like to know?”

“Start from the basics, I suppose... Where are you from?”

That was how it started, quietly speaking back and forth as she asked him questions and he found himself opening up to tell her about growing up in Ferelden, his time spent in Kirkwall, the events that he'd seen through his time spent there. She had asked him about Ferelden and the blight, being in the Circle, but he'd glossed over the topic and looked away, not wanting to remember it further... and she didn't pry, just quietly accepted that whatever it was was personal. 

It led into her asking him about the templars and why he'd joined, what being a templar meant, what he thought about mages... Because it was a life she didn't know and didn't understand. She'd lived her whole life as an apostate, only being told to avoid them at the cost of her life. That thought made him frown because there was a time that he probably would have struck her down himself. But this quiet woman, who'd never seen the inside of a Circle in her entire life, was thoughtful and endearing, strong willed and powerful. She managed to learn and control her powers without ever having the need of the Chantry interfering. Of course, his life made him a little biased, but if all mages outside of the Circle were like her? 

It made him glad that the events in his life that led him to him to harbor such a deep hatred for mages had been left behind him in Kirkwall, all because one particular Champion had put a nagging voice in the back of his head about there needing to be a change... that the Chantry and the Circles were flawed.

“Do Templars take vows? 'I swear to to the maker to watch all the mages'-,” her voice laced with a little sarcasm and a slight twitch of her lips, “that sort of thing?”

“Well, there is a vigil first, you're meant to be at peace during that time, but your life is about to change. When it's over, you give yourself to a life of service...” he paused with a small sigh, remembering what it had been like. How devoted he'd once been to that cause. “That's when you're given a philter – your first draught of lyrium – and it's power. As templars, we are not to seek wealth or acknowledgement, our lives belong to the Maker and the path we have chosen.”

“A life of service and sacrifice,” she said quietly, looking down to her feet. “I can understand that. In the clans, I was learning to be a keeper... and being a mage... well, only so many are usually allowed, but my clan always worked to make sure we had somewhere to go, so that we could learn and not face what that means alone. But, we have to sacrifice more, be willing to give up our clan and our family. It can be... difficult, but it's there.”

His eyes traced her features, her face falling into sadness as she thought about home. A land far, far away from where she was now and probably a life she would never see again because her name was on the lips of almost every home across Thedas right now. It could be potentially dangerous for her to go back and risk exposing her people to that. He wondered if she would miss it.

“If you have such rules, are templars expected to give up...” her bottom lip went between her teeth, chewing over the word she was looking for until she found it. “Physical temptations?” Maker help him... he sat, shocked for a minute, mouth gaping like a fish out of water as he watched her pick at the plywood next to her.

“Physical? Why... Why would you...?” he found himself asking automatically and scrambling over his words as his brain stopped thinking. He cleared his throat to try and find some semblance of confidence, he wasn't that blushing Templar back in the Circle again, despite the fact that he was – in fact – blushing.

“Just curious, it is a religious organization,” she answered, glancing over to him out of the corner of her eye. It made him put on a brave face if only to answer her question as quickly and respectfully as possible. “It's not expected. Templars can marry – a-although there are rules around it, and the order must grant permission. Some may choose to give up... more... to prove their devotion, but it's – it's, um, not required.”

He hoped that would be the end of it, that's all she needed to know about that subject. Just enough to offer insight about what the Templar order expected of them and that they weren't all pious and bound to the Maker in such a way. But when she asked questions, she didn't go halfway.... “Have you...? Taken those vows I mean,” if he didn't think otherwise, he would say she sounded hopeful.

“Me? I... um... um... no. I've taken no such vows,” he was certain he'd turned every shade of red that he could possibly turn. How is it that she did that to him? Oh right, he had a fetish... and a weakness for beautiful women. “Maker's breath!” his voice echoed the thought in his head, “Can we speak of something else?”

The next thing he knew, she was laughing, eyes closed and her face scrunched up as she clutched at her stomach. Her head tossed back to expose her neck as she looked over at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and glee. “Actually, that's all I wanted to know. Thank you,” and before he even realized it, she was standing, her feet skipping as she pranced to the other end of the dock. As he stood to join her and follow her with his eyes, she turned back to him, putting her hands behind her back and swaying her shoulders and hips in a way that he could only interpret as flirtatious. “We should get back... I'd planned to get an early start so that we can be in the Val Royeaux by the end of the week.”

“I enjoyed speaking with you, Commander Cullen,” she said, her chin tilting down to her throat as she reached up to sweep a stray curl behind her pointed ear. It was the first time he'd ever seen her not keeping them tucked and hidden behind her hair as much as possible and it added a new exotic air about her. “I enjoyed speaking with you, I'd like to do it again sometime.”

“Of course, Lady Herald...” he said quietly and watched as she turned and started to walk away. He was left standing there at the end of the peer, slightly dazed and confused on what exactly there conversation had meant. Especially when his brain kept going back to the image of her, her face turned down but her eyes on his, hands behind her back – looking coy and flirty – like a normal woman vying for his attention, despite being anything but normal in his eyes. His breath shuttered as he filled his lungs and finally his legs were able to handle the idea of him taking his first steps back to the fort. 

“I'd like that...” and his voice was lost in the chill night air as he walked alone back to camp with his thoughts filled with her, her laugh, and her smile as a new feeling settled somewhere in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on the next chapter, see you all soon!


	3. Think Like the Little People

She stood in the middle of the glittering streets of Val Royeux, her eyes wandering towards a memorial statue at it's center. She and her party had already confronted the Chantry that had been awaiting them, wanting to “protect” the people from the blasphemous claim that she was the Herald of Andraste with the promise of the Templar Order at their side. That had frightened her a bit – thinking they would love the opportunity to strike her down as a mage. Instead, they'd made quite the spectacle of both themselves and the Chantry by announcing they would have nothing to do with either of them.

So now, they had spent a few days to resupply from the journey and rest their horses (and their backsides, respectfully). However, she'd found herself unable to rest, drawn in by the bustle of the city. It was so... loud. People were constantly moving, merchants hawking their wares to passerby's in rhythmic tones and loud yells. All of it was so overwhelming and yet disturbingly fascinating. Especially the men and women who walked with a haughty sway in their step, chins held high to look down their noses at everything while they wore colorful, extravagant clothes and masks that they hid behind, and yet did absolutely nothing to hide there expressions. 

The smell of foreign foods wafted into her nostrils passed the smell of floral perfumes and she realized just how different this world was from the one she knew. These people, so high and mighty behind their walls knew nothing of what real hardship was. While they tasted foods, hunted and gathered by others, her people struggled to have enough through the winter. Buildings made from smoothed stones and solid wooden doors hid them away with cozy fireplaces when the weather was cold and a breeze fluttered in through open windows when the sun was beating down overhead while her people hid in tents that barely stopped a draft and bundled up in furs they had gotten themselves.

There were enough things in the entire city that would clothe, feed, and care for her entire clan for years and years to come and it made her feel, instinctually, proud of her Dalish people and sorry for these shemlins whom, if the world was thrown into the chaos that the Breach threatened, probably wouldn't make it passed the week, all because they were so obsessed with things that had so little meaning, yet they made important to their lifestyle.

Alasi'lath ignored the looks she received, as well as the whispers that she looked like a savage, dressed in her simple, yet practical clothes: Green colored shirt wrinkled with golden embroidery at the edges and brown leather pants clinging to her long lean legs. A belt around her waist to hold simple pouches and belts on her thighs that held little bottles full of alchemical concoctions. She reached up and pulled the dark colored wolf pelt tighter on her shoulders with the chain and brooches attached to it. 

And also to check that her simple bow, carved with sweeping designs of forest leaves and adorned with the crystals that focused her magic was still in place on her shoulders. Just in case, never knew who might try to kidnap her in this place. She had always been warned that slavers enjoyed the exotic beauty that came naturally to the elvish people and she stuck out like a sore thumb.

She let her gaze drift to a golden placard just below a statue of a creature she didn't quite recognize, her fingers trailing across the engraved lettering. “Emprise du Lion” it read and her brows knitted together in concentration as she mouthed, attempting to pronounce the words she'd never read before. Humans had such a strange tongue compared to their own – where theirs contained no hard vowels and rolled off the tongue like a hiss, their's was full of hard vowels that made the tongue click. Not that she couldn't speak it quite fluently, but reading it was a whole other matter. She'd been trying to learn, but it was one of the few things that Keeper Istimaethoriel had been struggling to get her to comprehend. 

She would have to have a discussion with Josephine about that, perhaps they could hire a tutor for her, because if she planned to stay with the Inquisition to discover the mystery behind the glowing scar on her hand, she would likely have a lot of paperwork she would have to read and it wouldn't be fair to have to have someone constantly around to read it aloud to her.

“Imp-ris-eh... d-uh... Le-ee-ohn,” she muttered aloud and looked back up to the small statue above it. So focused she'd been, she hadn't noticed her small entourage falling into place behind her. “Em-prize dyoo lie-on,” she heard Cassandra pronounce the words she'd been struggling over and whipped her head around to see her, Varric, and Solas standing there with their traveling packs strung casually over their shoulders. Cassandra gently set Alasi'lath's pack down on the steps behind where she stood, packed fuller than it had when they arrived and ready to go.

“Emprise d-dyoo Lion,” she repeated, looking down across the words and back up to the small stone statue of the cat-like creature with a thick neck around it's head and shoulders. “Perhaps the name Sahrnia is more familiar to you?” Solas offered and she hummed her acknowledgement. 

“Yes, I wasn't aware that anyone called it otherwise, thank you, Solas. My clan never traveled that far out of the Free Marches, we much prefer the warmer weather,” she said idly over her shoulder. “This creature... it is a lion? Why is it's neck so large?” Her thoughts had drifted back to what her mother had told her as a child and the whispered dreams she had had before she had woken up in the Fade. Was this what her mother had spoken to her about? It rather confused her, there was nothing important about the statue before her or the city that she'd found herself in. How could such an object give her strength? Perhaps, instead, she was talking about the Dales and that she should travel to this Emprise du Lion, but if that was the case, then why hadn't her mother simply said to go to Sahrnia?

“Their necks aren't actually-” Varric began to explain, but before he could finish, the whistling sound of an arrow was heard and they all turned towards the sound. Cassandra dropped her pack and began to pull her shield free from her back, but before she could even manage, the arrow made a sharp thwunk sound as it landed into the grooves of the stone pavement near her feet. They all looked up and around to discover it's source before Cassandra's eyes fell to the arrow and a small piece of parchment tied around it's haft with a red piece of ribbon, “An arrow with a message?”

Alasi'lath stepped forward a few paces, her eyes still scanning the rooftops and windows of the towering buildings around them, “What does it say?” The dark shadows cast by the sun behind the structures made it difficult to see where or whom the arrow had originated from. Varric was the one to lean down and pluck the arrow from the ground as Cassandra stood in front of them with her shield covering them from any incoming fire. He pulled at the red bow and unraveled the note before reading the lines scribbled across it in a large flowing hand and little doodles of what looked to be landmarks bordering around the edges.

“People say you're special. I want to help, and I can bring everyone. There's a baddie in Val Royeux. I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for the red things in the market, the docks, and 'round the cafe, and maybe you'll meet him first. Bring swords. Signed, Friends of Red Jenny,” Alasi'lath watched as Varric turned his head up to glance at her, one of his eyebrow's arched upward slightly like it did when he was about to make a snarky comment. “Great penmanship, shitty grammar. Such a shame.” She found a small huff escaping her nose as she tried not to laugh, of course he would. 

“What do you think? If someone else wants me dead, we might as well take care of it while we're here,” she said lightly and watched as her group considered it. “Not only that, but it said they can offer us support... We need all of that that we can get at the moment.”

Cassandra gave a scoff of indignation before she spoke, “Very well, it would seem we still don't have the support of the Chantry and whomever this – Friend of Red Jenny – is, it sounds like they have connections if they can unearth a plot to assassinate you.”

“I hope that whomever it is doesn't mind that we only have one sword to bring,” Solas said with a chuckle. Alasi'lath tried not to laugh, but she did, especially when Cassandra's face turned down into a scowl as she huffed and clicked her tongue at them before marching off towards the docks. It wasn't much, but she was rather starting to enjoy their company, they made it easier to remember she could still laugh even when there were important things to be done. 

She moved to follow after Cassandra, picking up her bag and forgetting all about the stone statue in the shape of a lion.

 

After a quick search, one dead noble, a scuffle with pant-less thugs, a visit to another nobles estate, and being intercepted by the leader of the mage rebellion, Fiona, that was how they ended up traveling back along the roads to Haven with two extra bodies with them. Vivienne sat side saddle across her own white colored steed that contrasted against the gentle glow of her darker skin. And Sera...? Well... Sera was straddling the back of Alasi'lath's horse, giggle-snorting for the twelfth time as she 'accidentally' groped her breasts with both hands.

“You got nice squishy bits, Lady Herald,” she said, another snorting laugh escaping her. Thirteen. Yes, Alasi'lath was counting every one of the damn laughs if only to distract herself from elbowing the strange elvish woman off the back of her horse. “Got anyone else to touch 'em for ya?”

“I really don't think that's any of your business. And I'd really appreciate if you'd put your hands somewhere where they aren't groping me,” she said with a sigh and she heard Varric chuckle somewhere along beside her. “Shut it, dwarf, I'll stick her up there with you so she can fondle Bianca.”

“Oh-” Varric groaned in mock pain, but it didn't stop his warm laughter. “That's a low blow, Glowy! You should know by now that only I get to pull that trigger.” Alasi'lath groaned softly, her shoulders slumping at the new nickname that she'd been given. Sera had said it once and the two of them had ganged up to stick it on her like a title and hadn't let up since. “Do you really have to call me that? It's such a silly nickname just because of this stupid mark on my hand.”

She felt the shift in weight as Sera teetered backwards on the horse, her legs kicking up on either side of her as she laughed and gripped the back of the saddle, fingers that didn't need to be there squishing under the curve of her hips to feel her backside. Fourteen, dammit... Creators take her, right now. She would go willingly if only to keep her dignity. “Fenedhis lasa, dirthara-ma!” she snarled, her hand coming up behind her to swat angrily at the other woman as the bow string around her shoulders stretched, the curve of her bow pressing firmly into Sera's shoulder.

It only made Sera laugh harder as her hands slipped out from under her backside and gripped tightly at the lip of the saddle. Thankfully, they stayed there, but for how long, Alasi'lath could only dare to guess. “Aww, come on, Glowy! That ain't right! If you're gonna curse me out, do it so I can understand you. None of that elf-y shite! And you didn't answer my question! You must be oggling someone!”

Vivienne sighed from behind them, it wasn't a wonder that she could even make that sound prim and proper, “Really dears, why must this conversation be so...” Solas quickly swooped in to interject with his own word for it, “Crude? Offensive?” Alasi'lath could just see the other mage woman shifting in her saddle, back straight and shoulders back, her chin held up proudly despite the ridiculous horned hat upon her head that made her look like the dragon she really was underneath, “Quite.”

“Shut it, priss pants!” Sera turned, barking the words over her shoulder at Vivienne and Solas, and Alasi'lath found herself sighing again, tired and refusing to stop any insults that were probably about to occur. Luckily, Varric decided to speak up – his voice a soothing balm upon all of them – to defuse the situation before it could begin, “Now, now! This is the first time that our Herald has been so talkative out on the road! We should all enjoy it while it lasts! Even if it's because Buttercup over here is sexually assaulting her.”

“Thank you, thank you so much, Varric,” Alasi'lath glowered at him sideways, her shoulders still slumped forward in dejected defeat and frustration. “Sweet maker, I'm sidled with a bunch of children,” Cassandra said in pure exasperation, “We're all doomed.” The Seeker had been remaining mostly quiet during the trip back – likely to keep herself from becoming Sera's next target.

“I regret it, I regret every decision I ever made! I should have made Sera walk all the way back to Haven!” she tossed up her hands in front of her, glad that her horse was well trained and that his reigns were securely tied around the saddle horn in front of her. It was easy for her to guide him forward with just the movements of her legs – it felt similar to riding Halla back home in the clan, though the saddle was an uncomfortable weight underneath her hips. She rather preferred riding bareback, though as of right this moment she was sure that the saddle was the only thing keeping Sera from flipping backwards and landing in the dirt off the back of the horse as she swayed, moved and laughed.

“So, Glowy, like I said, aye, you got your eyes on something? Someone? You like the muscle-y types? Or maybe you prefer the squishy bits?” Sera asked her and she noticed that, although her playful sing-song voice never really faltered, for some reason it had taken on a more serious undertone that actually caught Alasi'lath off guard. She stared down across the dirt path they traveled and her lip came between her teeth as she thought it over – she found it strange that an image of Cullen came to the forefront of her mind, the way the light from the moon and from the breach had glinted across the hints of his armor under his warm, fur lined coat and how the shadows played across the strong lines of his jaw and cheekbones and made him look mysterious and sad.

“No,” she lied smoothly, but she wasn't sure when her mind decided that she was actually lying about it. She had admitted, at least a few times, that Cullen was handsome and the way he'd spoken that evening, she'd desired to delve deeper into his inner thoughts to try and comfort how haunted he'd sounded, especially when she asked him about the Circle in Ferelden. But was she focused on him? No, absolutely not. Yet, there was a nagging thought in the back of her head that said that that was a lie too.

“We have work to do, in case you'd failed to notice the giant hole in the sky,” her words were pointed at Sera but they crushed her own stray thought down just as well.

Sera blew a raspberry between her lips behind her, “Who hadn't noticed? Have to be blind not to – stupid, maybe. Just 'cause you're super important now an all doesn't mean ya have ta forget you used to be one of the little people – not like miss wedgie in her britches back there. Or maybe it's an elf-y thing, yeah? I'm not much for elf-y things myself.”

“I hadn't noticed,” her voice was laced heavily with sarcasm before she adjusted in her saddle. They would have to stop for the evening soon, too dangerous for the horses to carry them after dark and it would let them eat something more hearty than the salted pork, cheese and bread that they'd had for lunch. Most importantly, it also meant being able to get Sera away for a little while, even though she hadn't been groped lately, it meant escaping the woman who often made no sense and yet made her think about things she shouldn't be thinking about. “What does being “little” or “big” have to do with it? I wasn't interested in anyone when I was back with my clan either. No one ever seemed... hm... right.”

“Didn't seem right, 'eh? Almost sounds like Glowy here is a bit of a romantic, don't it?” Sera asked no one in particular, though she heard Varric chuckle nearby and she looked out of the corner of her eye to see him nodding at Sera in agreement. 

“There's nothing wrong with that,” Cassandra defended, trying to sound stoic about it and yet when everyone glanced her way, it was difficult not to notice the slight flush in her cheeks as she looked up to scowl at the sky like she'd said nothing at all.

“And on that note... I believe we should stop and make camp, this looks like good a place as any,” she gently pressed her horse off the side of the road and up onto a small flat embankment. Before she'd even come to a full stop, Sera was tossing her leg around to slide from the back of her horse. “To answer your question, Glowy, it has everything to do with being a little person. Right? The little people still find time for the really important things. The big people are so focused on the big important things that they forget the things that matter most. It's why most of the big people fill their lives with pointless shite because they aren't happy. So don't forget to look down and remember you were little once.”

Alasi'lath glanced down at the other woman as she started to bounce away, surprised. The words reflected the thoughts she'd had back in Val Royeux about the people, busying there lives with little trinkets and baubles that didn't really matter while the rest of the world went on around them simply trying to survive. Maybe the small people, as Sera put it, were happier, happier because they focused on the things life had to offer – like love and romance, getting a meal in their bellies – living life to it's fullest without filling it with more items that could just be taken away. “I... suppose your right. Even if that's not how I would have put it.” 

Sera glanced back up with just a quick tug at her lips, “Course I am!” before she went to poke at something that had caught her eye. Alasi'lath gently tossed her leg over and slid off her horse, getting lost in her own thoughts as she undid the bags and buckles on her horses saddle – each piece placed carefully on the ground at her feet. 

What was important to her? What made her the little people that Sera talked about? And what kept her from being like those snobby nobles back in Val Royeux, who thought that they were more important than the rest because they had big important problems to think about like the Breach was to her?

Her clan, she cared about them. They were her entire life, her family, her friends. She cared about what they were going to do to fix the problems between the Mages and the Templars, because that had affected not only her clan but everyone across Thedas, she'd seen that in the Hinterlands. She also found herself caring about her new allies and the things that they desired. They wanted to fix things as well... Cassandra and Leliana had lost an important part of their lives at the Conclave, yet they pressed on to continue what she had wanted to start, to make her memory live on. Everyone else wanted to help in that endeavor, it seemed, if it meant protecting the things they cared about as well.

Her mind went back to Cullen... his sharp words as he described to her what the Inquisition meant to him and then the quiet evening together as he'd explained his past. Whatever had happened to him, it was a heavy reminder on his heart as to why he was here in the first place. His Knight-Commander in Kirkwall had gone insane with power over her hatred of mages and he'd watched the rebellion start with his own eyes. She wasn't sure what happened before then, but it had felt like he'd seen himself in his Knight-Commander and had grasped at the opportunity to not become that. Yet, the feeling she got when he looked at her was never that she was just a mage, but someone meant to save them all.

She felt her lips tug into a soft smile as she thought of him, guiding her horse by the reigns to the small enclosure that Cassandra had put up between a grouping of trees. She took his reigns off and rubbed his neck as he bent down to graze at the tufts of grass he found under his feet. 

Maybe it was wrong of her to think of a human the way she did him, but she liked the way he smiled and laughed. The way his face would turn red with a blush whenever she complimented him or asked him something unexpected. Even the way he'd looked at her when she'd flirted, if only to gauge his reaction. She wasn't foolish, she could see that he was attracted to her, though she wasn't sure if she had done it only to test the waters or if she did it because she actually was starting to feel attracted to him as well. Remembering his light chuckle when she'd made him laugh... maybe she was attracted to him that way. If she was, she had a good reason to stay and fight, if only it meant she could make him smile again and forget the darkness that lingered behind his eyes when he spoke about himself. Whether she liked to admit it or not, he was quickly becoming important to her and was her reason not to become too “big” and important to not be “little” any more. 

Creators help her, she was starting to think like Sera spoke.


	4. Whisk Me Away

When she'd returned, she'd brought more people with her. Cullen stood and watched her carefully at the war table where she sat, arms draped across the back of a wooden chair and her legs dangling on either side like she would straddle a horse. When she'd arrived, she'd been laughing at something that the elven woman behind her had said. It was that easy, open laugh that he'd only heard twice in the weeks that he'd known her. Something about that trip had made her open up to all of them, almost like she was seeking friendship and community rather than holding them at an arms length away.

He was seeing more of the bubbling woman he'd seen down by the lake, full of life and wonder and curiosity instead of a intangible mystery that held everyone at an arms length away. It was an enormous change, like night and day, really. And to his eyes, it brought her closer within reach as a physical being rather than what most believed the Herald of Andraste was supposed to represent – a Goddess among men, spiritual and bathed in the light of the Maker meant to save them all. This woman was now a mortal creature, with flaws and hopes and dreams like everyone else.

If he was being honest with himself, it made his infatuation with her grow even stronger and set a protective flame ablaze somewhere in his mind, because being mortal meant that they could loose her. It also made him distinctly aware of the dark circles that had formed under her eyes from lack of sleep and he wondered if it was because of what happened in Val Royeux. Leliana had gotten word before they'd even returned that the Chanty and a small band of Templars had been waiting for them when they'd stepped through the gates. 

The Herald didn't admit it, but he wondered if it had frightened her so much that she hadn't been sleeping well on the trip back to Haven. She'd explained that the Templars said they were focused on the rebel mages instead of the Chantry's preconceived fear of a false prophet. She wasn't worth their time or their efforts now, but she was a mage... and she had been an apostate since long before the fall of the Circles, which meant she would very much be worth their efforts eventually, even with the protection of the Inquisition at her back.

Josephine, Leliana, Cassandra were discussing their next moves. Fiona had presented an offer to meet with them in Redcliffe, and he was loathe to admit that perhaps they were their best offer after the Templars announcement and their complete pull from the Chantry. He spoke with them slowly, discussing strategies to expand their influence further in the event that they did side with the mages and they went over incoming reports and how they should best be handled.

“Right now, I'm not certain we have enough influence to approach the Order or the Mages safely,” Cullen offered, his arms crossing over his chest carefully as he looked towards the other. It didn't matter who helped at the moment, if they didn't have the men to cull a potential uprising, then their troubles would be for nothing.

“Then the Inquisition needs agents in more places,” Cassandra offered, tapping her hand across the War Table as she placed marks in other locations that were being affected by Rifts. As pilgrims continued trickling in among their ranks and Leliana's scouts gained more movement, they were hearing more and more rumors of people in need. “That's something that you can help with, Herald.”

Josephine spoke up after that, “In the meantime, we can consider our options on who to approach.”

Leliana and him had just finished talking about some missing troops out in the Stormcoast when he'd turned to ask the Herald a question and found her sitting, eyes closed and her mouth slightly open from where her jaw pressed against her wrist. Her chest and shoulders rose and fell in a steady pattern and he quickly came to the realization that she'd fallen asleep to the steady lull of their voices.

“Herald?” Leliana asked gently and the only response she received was a quiet, sleep formed, mumble. 

“She fell asleep,” Josephine said, the surprise apparent in her voice and yet she remained hushed so as not to wake her. 

“It was a long trip,” Cassandra said, “She barely rested through most of it.” 

Cullen stared, she looked so relaxed and it made her appear even younger than he'd realized at first, barely old enough to not be called a child any longer. The position she was in, he knew well that her arms would soon be numb and her back would soon begin to ache. He'd fallen asleep at his desk in a similar fashion countless of times before. “S-should I take her to her quarters?” he asked, unsure, as he looked at the other women in the room. 

He was certain Cassandra could lift the petite woman without blinking an eye, but she was worn and road weary as well. At least all he'd been doing was reading and writing documents and overlooking the men. The least he could do was carry the woman that looked like she weighed the same amount as his quill did in his hand.

“I'd rather not wake her, if we can... We need her rested if we're going to leave for the Stormcoast in the next day or so to find out what happened to those missing troops... And we've received word of a possible ransom in the swamps down south,” Cassandra said gently, waving a hand in her direction so that he would continue.

Cullen flushed a bit before he started her way, gently pressing a hand to the Herald's shoulder and flinching as she sighed, nuzzling her face deeper into the crook of her arm. “Lady Herald...” he whispered softly as he leaned down towards her, “I-I'm going to take you to your quarters.” All he received was a quiet murmur as he put his hand under her arm to try and get her to move. Think of her like a child... that's all he needed to do. Like a small child that he was having to carry to bed, not the woman he found himself growing more and more fond of in each passing week.

He tugged at her carefully until one arm rested around his shoulder and she slipped, her head rolling precariously onto her shoulder as he struggled to get an arm under her legs without accidentally touching her inappropriately. Finally he managed to get a good grasp, pulling her up as the chair teetered precariously and Leliana came to catch it before it could fall over and wake her up. One arm wrapped around her ribs and the other cradled her legs as he adjusted her against his chest and she shifted in her sleep, the arm draped across his shoulder pressed tightly into his back as the other snaked around his other shoulder where her hand cupped the back of his neck. He cleared his throat nervously when her face rested on her arm and he felt her breath, hot and thick against the expanse of his throat.

“Shall we continue the rest of this discussion in the morning... or...?” he asked the other three and he couldn't help but notice the small grin that had crossed over both Leliana's and Josephine's lips, like they knew something that he didn't. Maker preserve him... Women. They were confusing and frightening and beautiful all at the same time. What was that look for? Just because he was carrying the Herald in his arms and a blush had crossed his cheeks didn't mean anything, nothing at all.

“We'll wait for the Herald to call a meeting when she's ready to leave,” Leliana confirmed, moving to open up the door for him and waiting until he'd shimmied sideways through it so as not to bump the Herald on the now, seemingly, too thin doorframe. The Spymaster gave him a gentle, knowing smile as he passed her by, “Please ensure she's comfortable, Commander.” There was inflection on his title that made the blush already on his cheeks crawl over his ears and down across his neck. He was certain that if the Herald's hand on his neck wasn't gloved, she'd feel the heat and pull away like she'd been burned.

“I'll open the other doors so that you can plan the scout movements, Leliana,” Cassandra said, joining at Cullen's side as they began walking towards the entrance of the Chantry. They walked in comfortable silence until she opened one of the massive double doors and they both stepped out into the cold. “Do you need me to open the door to her quarters, Commander?” she asked, eyeing the way he tucked her a little closer to hide her face from the sudden change in temperature.

“I... I believe I can manage from here,” he said softly and watched as the woman nodded. They went there separate ways from there, Cassandra moving around to the left hand path to go to the Tavern while Cullen carefully treaded the path to the right towards the Herald's cabin. When he arrived, he carefully shifted so that the hand that supported her legs could open her door and pushed it the rest of the way open with his back and shoulder as he tucked inside where one of the servants had already stoked a fire to keep it warm for when she arrived.

It was the first time he'd ever been inside of the space and he found himself breathing in the scent of herbs and dirt that nearly overwhelmed him and yet was distinctly her. Drying plants hung from the upper rafters above them and all around were scattered parchments, books and trinkets that he was certain she'd found while she was out and about traveling with the others or exploring the terrain around Haven. While it seemed like chaos, it was ordered chaos, everything had a place in a certain part of the room.

As he stepped through the area towards her bed, he found his eyes drifting to a shelf that had been hung above the headboard and on its surface was a soft fur hide, almost as dark as the fur on his jacket, that cushioned a few crystalized gems, rocks, feathers from different types of birds, and a few pieces of dried flora and fauna from different regions – not all of which he recognized. It didn't take him long to work out that amongst everything she had, those were her most prized possessions.

All of it made him smile, because despite how aloof she had been up until recently, it meant that she had claimed a space to call her own and that she planned to stay for some time. It also gave him insight into the world far away from where she was that she'd once called home, back with her Dalish clan, wandering the wilds and never staying in one place for very long. Everything that she had was practical and simple, easily replaced and not over the top. He wondered if any of it held any special memories for her or if she'd only picked them up with the thought in mind that she could turn it into something when she had the tools available to do so.

Finally, he moved to set her down and realized that the way the bed was positioned and the way that she was in his arms, he couldn't simply lay her down, otherwise she would be facing the footboard instead of resting on her pillow. He frowned at that, looking at the woman in his arms and back at the bed, trying to come up with a plan of action and found that his only move would be to sit her down like she had been in the chair and then ease her down from there.

So, he stood sideways to the bed and started to bend down again only to find his heavy boots folding up a furred rug at the side of her bed, causing him to slip. His body turned just in time for him to land with a grunt onto the mattress, sitting in the same spot he'd meant to set her, her body jostled in his arms. “Damnit,” he cursed, his armor rattling a little too loudly in the small space. It was just one of the many times that he found his desire to wear the heavy plate armor a little too impractical around so many soft footed companions. Even Cassandra wore less than he did and she was a front-lines fighter.

Cullen felt the small woman stir in his arms, turning her face from where it was tucked into the deep furs around his shoulders and her eyes open just a fraction. Her face was sleep weary, but realization quickly seemed to dawn upon her and she sat up with a quick jerk. “Sorry, I was trying to allow you your rest, Herald,” his voice lowered, soft, so as not to startle her any more than she already was. She turned to look at him for a moment before looking down to where she was now in his lap, legs tucked over one of his arms.

“Oh... Oh I'm so sorry, Cullen,” she said, graceful limbs sliding away to free herself from his grasp as her cheeks turned a dark shade of red. “I fell asleep in the War Room, didn't I?” He released her as she moved, though found himself missing the warmth of her hand on his neck and the slow rhythm of her breath as it ruffled his jacket and caressed his jaw. He blushed at his own thoughts, clearing his throat nervously. “Seems I do that a lot lately, people having to carry me off to bed,” she laughed, now fidgeting beside him as she tried to break the tension that suddenly permeated the air around them.

“It's alright, you've been dealing with a lot, Lady Herald. And twice now we've almost lost you to the Breach, you should allow yourself to rest,” he offered, smiling to her before he shifted, lifting his weight from the bed as his leather groaned and his armor clanked. “Cassandra said you didn't sleep well on the trip back. You don't have to worry, so long as the Inquisition is at your side. We wouldn't allow anything to happen to you if we could help it.”

“Cullen,” she called out, her voice soft and gentle... something far from the typical humor she generally possessed and even further away from the demanding tones she sometimes got when she was helping them plan strategies or helping him with the men so they had more experience with what it was to face a mages magic. It touched him like a caress and made his spine shiver beneath his armor. “Thank you... I don't know what I would do without all of you,” she stopped, her eyes falling into the shadows of her hair as she wrung her hands, long, slender and elegant looking as she pulled at the glove that covered only one of them. “I know at first that Cassandra wasn't very thrilled about me, but... these past few weeks, you've all made me feel like a part of this, trusted me. And well... you know... having a Commander that will whisk me off to bed helps.”

She laughed at the final bit, the serious tone falling away with her humor as she glanced back up, the fires from the hearth catching the warm tones of her skin and glinting carefully in the forest of her eyes. Like camping deep in the wilds after a long day of travel. Safe and comforting from the darkness and sounds that lurked just outside of the warmth of the campfire. It made him feel like home and silenced the nagging hum of the Lyrium that called out to him on a regular basis if only for a few moments.

“Well, please do inform me if you need to be whisked away. I'm here, if you have need of me,” he said, feeling the way his face softened from it's usual tense lines and the small tug at the corner of his lips as he smiled. Why was it that he felt like he could let his guard down around her? An apostate mage, even before the Circle's fall, was the single person that made him feel like the weight on his shoulders was lifted and there was no need for him to glance over them for the dangers that might be there.

“Are you propositioning me, Commander?” she said, her lips tugging up into a grin. “That's not very professional of you.” Watching the valesline twist across her chin and cheekbones, crinkle in the lines of her forehead as her eyebrows twisted up above her eyes, he felt his face flush with what she was insinuating and stammered quickly.

“What... no... That's! Maker's breath, woman, that's not what I was trying to imply!” he turned to face her more solidly, frowning deeply as he felt the heat rushing from his cheeks down to his neck. He took it all back, she was a fox in disguise of a beautiful woman that made him feel safe before sweeping out of the darkness like a Chasind wilder. Just as he was about to continue chastising her, however, her face turned from wicked to laughing jovially.

“I'm joking! I'm just joking Commander! Please, it's okay! Creators, you shemlins, think all of us elvhen folk are going to lure you into the darkness with our smiles,” she managed to say past her laughter before it faded and left her smiling the happiest smile he'd seen from her since they had met. “But in all honesty... Thank you. Really, thank you. Get some rest, Commander. Creators or... Maker... knows we all need it in this chaos.”

His face was still hot and flushed, sighing as he shook his head and began stepping towards the door, his boots a heavy weight on the wooden floors and too loud in the quiet peace that the sanctuary of her room seemed to create. “I swear, between you, Leliana, Cassandra, and Josephine, you will bring about an early grave for me. Sleep well, Lady Herald.”

“Let us hope not, I quite like your company, Commander. Rest easy, I'm sure there will be a lot to do in the morning,” she was watching him cross the room with that easy smile and he wondered if she enjoyed watching him as much as he enjoyed watching her. “There's always more to be done,” he said softly as he opened the door to leave. Always working... struggling... the nights didn't come easy for him, especially on nights that he fought with nightmares. But her words made it easier to think that maybe he could have one nights rest and it be peaceful.

He slipped out of the door and disappeared back towards the Chantry and his room, just missing her soft whisper behind him: “Without you, I wouldn't have anyone to whisk me away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite as happy with this chapter as I have been with others. It moves a little quickly towards the end and it may be revised after it's set for awhile. But I wanted to get another chapter out since it's been awhile. Next chapter: After recruiting the mages. Be back soon!


End file.
